Darkness
by Wilemina
Summary: The team get injured during a mission gone wrong, but for Connor, there are lasting side-effects.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Darkness

Characters/Pairing: Connor, Abby, Becker, Danny, Lester, Sarah (possible Abby/Connor later on)

Genre: Angst, hurt/comfort, violence.

Summary: The team get injured during a mission gone wrong, but Connor comes out of it with unforeseen side-effects.

Disclaimer: Primeval and it's characters belong to Impossible Pictures, no copyright infringement is intended.

A/N: Huge thanks to Alyse, for the beta. :- )

* * *

The darkness was everywhere, enveloping the room like a shroud. The air was so thick that you could almost reach out and touch it and it took a few moments for it to register in Connor's brain that the black shroud was actually smoke. He choked and gagged on fumes as he pushed himself to his knees, remembering seeing something on TV once about having to stay low during a fire.

Crawling along the floor, he tried desperately to recall what had happened - why he'd found himself in this situation - but his mind drew a blank. One thing he did know from his scrabbling around was that he wasn't any place familiar.

"Abby," he croaked, the effort of speech causing him to inhale more smoke. "Sarah, Danny, anyone?"

There was no response and Connor wasn't sure whether that was a good sign or a bad one. He felt around a bit more and it wasn't long before his hands came into contact with something soft and human-shaped. Whoever it was felt wet and sticky and when he brought his hands away, they were covered in blood. He fell back in shock, gasping for breath as bad memories assailed him from the last time he was in such a situation.

"Crap!" he cursed as he steeled himself to inspect the person more thoroughly.

As he squinted through the darkness and felt the face, it was clear that this person was male and also, as he checked his neck for a pulse, he was dead. Connor shuddered and pulled his hands away as though burned, desperately wiping the blood on his jeans.

He crawled on, searching for any of his team mates - or maybe an exit - and it wasn't long before he came across another body. This one was cold to the touch and it caused Connor to take deep lung-full's of thick, poisonous air. He coughed and spluttered, feeling his head spin from lack of oxygen; he realised that he'd have to get out of here quickly or it wouldn't be long before his fate matched that of the men he had found.

"Can anybody hear me?" he called out.

Only silence.

Connor noticed that his breathing was becoming a lot more laboured now - his chest felt tight and his lungs sounded crackly with every gasp.

"Got to get out of here," he mumbled to himself.

He'd not yet come across any fire, and he felt no intense heat. Connor began to wonder what it was that was causing this awful smog as he continued his journey along the soot covered floor. A sudden stabbing pain ripped through his left hand as it came into contact with something sharp and he cried out, lifting it carefully to inspect his injury. Warm liquid began to run down his arm and as he brought his hand closer, he saw a deep red gash half the length of his palm.

Connor's eyes went wide, stars appearing in front of them as he fought for consciousness. He'd never been good with blood - especially his own. Survival mode eventually kicked in and he pulled off his shirt, tearing a strip from it and wrapping it tightly around his hand. He had to keep going, had to find his friends and get the hell out of here - wherever 'here' was. It hurt to crawl now and he had to bring his injured hand up a few times to rest it. The extra strain began to show in his other limbs and they ached terribly.

There was a scuffling sound somewhere to his right and then a familiar voice called out.

"Abby, Connor, where are you?"

"Becker!"

Oh, it was Becker, thank God! Connor pushed himself to his feet in his rush for safety - immediately regretting it when the thicker air hit him like a brick wall, causing him to sway and stumble forward. He tripped over something, falling face down, and screamed as he was met with the cold, dead eyes of one of Becker's men. His stare settled on the horrific gunshot wound to the soldier's head and he scrabbled about, trying desperately to get away and landing hard on his backside. He felt the bile rise to his throat as he emptied the contents of his stomach.

Becker finally reached his side, inspecting him for injuries and asking him questions - none of which Connor could make any sense of. Becker's mouth was moving, and sound was coming out, but all Connor could concentrate on was the blood: the blood; the death, and the carnage all around them.

"Connor!" Becker said sharply, snapping his fingers in front of his friend's face. "Come on, talk to me."

"Where . . . Where are the others?" he managed.

"Danny was already out when it blew, I managed to get Sarah out. Where's Abby?"

"Abby? I . . . "

Connor continued to stare blankly; the icy stares of the dead men etched into his mind.

"Come on, Connor, focus. You and Abby were together when the lab exploded."

"Exploded?" he repeated.

Flashbacks assailed him, of a smoke filled ARC, of fire and twisted metal, of Cutter . . .

Becker tried a slightly different tactic.

"Which direction did you come from?"

Connor blinked hard several times, clearing his dry throat.

"I . . ." He didn't finish, but pointed directly behind him.

Some of the smoke had cleared and the shadows of fallen men could be made out; Connor whimpered at the thought of so many lives lost.

"Come on, let's get you out of here," Becker said, hauling him to his feet.

"But what about Abby? We can't just leave her here."

He felt panic rise within him. He'd been focused solely on survival before but now he had Becker by his side, now he knew for certain that Abby wasn't safe, he felt sick again.

"I'll come back for her," Becker promised. "We need to get you out first, Connor - you're ready to keel over."

"No! Not without Abby!"

He fought against Becker, but both his weakness due to smoke inhalation, and the fact that Becker was physically stronger made it an unfair match. In the end, he slumped against his friend, allowing Becker to bear most of his weight as they made their way to the exit.

When they finally reached the fresh, cold air outside, Connor took deep breaths, filling his lungs. The sudden rush of oxygen made his head spin and he fell to his knees with a thud. Paramedics rushed forwards and took over from Becker, but Connor managed to grab his arm and pull him towards his face.

"Find Abby!"

He saw Becker nod and run back in the direction of the smoking building. Connor stared at the large brick warehouse as the paramedics tended his wounds and gave him oxygen. Smoke filtered out through every window and door, and firemen were dousing every point of entry with some sort of foam. He couldn't remember entering the building at all and it seemed that the more time passed, the deeper his memories faded into the background. Connor finally allowed himself to relax; stars appeared in front of his eyes, and he closed them tight, letting the darkness take him over again.

* * *

It was warm - almost too warm - and Connor pushed at the scratchy sheets that covered him as he opened his eyes. The lights were bright, and he had to blink several times before he became accustomed to them. He looked around, taking in his surroundings; he was in a hospital bed it seemed. Everything was white or grey, and there was the strong odour of disinfectant in the room. Then he noticed something else - or rather - someone else. A woman was curled up asleep on a chair in the corner of the room. She had long dark hair and looked incredibly dirty. Connor wondered what on earth could have happened to him - to them - to have covered her in so much soot and ash.

A sudden wave of fear washed over him, and he felt sick. He couldn't explain it, didn't know why he was feeling this way. He took deep breaths, telling himself that it was going to be ok, but he had the distinct feeling that everything wasn't ok - that something was terribly wrong. He felt as though he'd forgotten something - let someone down. Connor leant over the bed just in time to empty the contents of his stomach onto the floor. Luckily, it seemed that he hadn't eaten for a while, and he reached over to the bedside cabinet with a shaky hand for the cup of water that sat there.

He heard a noise from behind him and turned to see the woman stirring from her nap.

"Connor?"

He didn't reply - couldn't reply. His throat felt dry and sore and his heart pounded in his ears. When he finally did open his mouth, no sound came out and he slumped back onto the bed feeling exhausted, confused, and utterly miserable.

"Oh, you've been sick. Don't worry, I'll call the nurse to tell her you're awake, and then I'll get this cleaned up."

She disappeared into the corridor, and Connor found himself panicking at the thought of being left alone. He wanted the woman to come back again and talk to him soothingly like she had a moment ago. His breaths became more ragged, and he worked himself up to such a state that by the time the woman returned with a nurse in tow, he was hyperventilating.

"Connor, it's ok, breathe for me," the nurse said gently.

The dark haired woman took his hand and he immediately began to calm - his breathing slowly returning to normal.

"It's ok now, Conn, you're ok," she soothed. "You had us worried there for a second." She smiled warmly at him, and stroked his face.

Connor closed his eyes and relaxed into the pillow, letting sleep overtake him.

* * *

In his dreams, Connor could see guns - lots of guns. Men in uniforms were firing them, and people were being flung about as they were hit with flying bullets. He cried out as he felt one hit his arm, and looked down to see that, luckily, it had just grazed the skin there. Then a woman's voice called out his name from behind him - a petite blonde. She had blood oozing from a wound in her left shoulder, and her eyes went wide as she fell to the ground. He heard a loud crack, followed by a wave of hot air, which knocked him from his feet. Then the world went black.

* * *

Connor sat bolt upright on the bed, a strangled cry escaping his lips. The memory of his dream was physically painful, but it soon ebbed away into nothingness as he brought his breathing back under control. He found himself looking around for the kind woman from earlier, but she was gone. Instead, there was a tall man standing in the corner. He was immaculately dressed, in black trousers, and a grey shirt. He was clean-shaven, and his hair was slicked back into a no-nonsense style. Unlike the woman from before, his face was un-readable; no smile or look of concern. Connor found himself feeling ever-so-slightly afraid of him.

"You alright, Temple?" he asked.

Was he alright? He couldn't answer that question; he had no idea whether he was ok or not ok. Was he supposed to know who this man was? Was he supposed to know who the woman from earlier was? All he knew was that they both seemed familiar somehow, and despite the slight fear he felt of the man, he also felt strangely soothed by his presence.

Connor cleared his throat and tried to speak, but still no sound came out. He clenched his fists in frustration and thumped the bed.

"Easy," the man said, walking over to him. "You've been through a lot. The doctor said that inhaling all that smoke damaged your throat and lungs. Might be a while before we get to hear your wonderful techno-babble again." His lips finally curled into a smile.

Connor detected a hint of sarcasm, and frowned. He really was confused, and it scared the hell out of him. He found himself wondering where his mum was. Surely she should have been here by now. She'd be worried sick about him. He hated worrying his mum; she'd been through enough in her life without having to come and visit him in hospital because he'd somehow managed to get himself into trouble. Every muscle and bone in his body ached and he felt tired, despite knowing that he must have slept for most of the day. He closed his eyes, praying that his nightmares wouldn't return as he drifted off to sleep.

* * *

When Connor woke again, he was alone. The room was dark, and he felt around for the buzzer he knew had been by his bedside earlier. He pushed it several times, trying not to let his new found fear of the dark get the better of him, and taking deep breaths to calm his nerves.

Eventually, a male nurse came in, switching on the light and walking over to Connor.

"Is everything alright, Mr Temple?" he asked.

Connor opened his mouth to reply, and this time, he managed it.

"Dark," he said, his voice sounding rough and strained. "It was too dark."

"Ah, I see." The nurse pulled a blood-pressure monitor from a high shelf and rolled up Connor's sleeve before wrapping it around his upper arm. "How are you feeling?"

"Sore," he croaked.

The man nodded and pressed a button, the monitor whirring as the band around his arm inflated. Connor winced as the pressure increased, pinching his skin.

"Hmm, it's a little on the high side, but nothing to worry about. Probably just got yourself all worked up."

"Probably."

Connor liked hearing himself speak again, even if it did hurt to do so. Now he could communicate, ask what the hell was going on and why he was in the hospital.

"Your friend's just outside, I'll go tell him you're awake, shall I?"

"Friend?"

"Yes. A Mr Quinn, I believe."

The nurse left him alone and a few seconds later, a tall, older looking man walked in. To Connor, he seemed almost scarier than his last visitor. There was a distinct aura of authority about him, and he had a slight swagger in his step.

"Mr Quinn?" Connor asked.

The man laughed, a deep, earthy chuckle as he walked over and patted Connor on the shoulder.

"Good one, Connor."

"Good one what?" Connor frowned.

"Connor, what are you going on about?"

Connor took a deep breath. Here was where he would finally be able to say it, voice his concerns out loud, and ask the questions he'd been longing to know the answer to.

"Am I supposed to know who you are?"

The other man looked shocked, just for a second. Then he shook his head, and smirked.

"C'mon mate, stop mucking about."

"I'm not. I don't . . . I don't know who you are - who any of you are. I'd like you to call my mum, please."


	2. Chapter 2

Title: Darkness

Characters/Pairing: Connor, Abby, Becker, Danny, Lester, Sarah (possible Abby/Connor later on)

Genre: Angst, hurt/comfort

Disclaimer: Primeval and it's characters belong to Impossible Pictures, no copyright infringement is intended.

A/N: As always, huge thanks to Alyse for the beta. :- ) And thanks so much for the reviews. It's good to know people are enjoying the read.

* * *

To say that Danny Quinn was worried about his friend would be an understatement. At first, he'd thought that Connor was messing with him, but after a twenty minute argument about why they couldn't tell his mum what had happened, he realised things were serious. After informing the doctors and leaving them to perform tests, Danny had called Sarah and Becker in to tell them the news.

The three of them were sitting out in the corridor in silence, nursing cups of cold tea, when the door to Connor's room opened and Dr Jacob's stepped out. They all stood simultaneously, discarding of their cups on a nearby table as the doctor came towards them.

"Well?" Danny asked impatiently.

"We can find no medical reason for Connor's memory loss," the doctor replied. "But from his injuries and the little I have been told of what happened to him, it's possible that he is suffering from post traumatic stress disorder."

"Isn't that something that soldiers get?" Sarah asked.

"Anyone who suffers a traumatic event can develop PTSD," Dr Jacob's said.

Danny took a deep breath and then blew it out, scrubbing his hands over his face. He was tired - they all were. He hadn't slept for two days and he doubted the others had either.

"Is there anything we can do, Doc?" he asked.

"Just be there for him, talk to him. Try to help him remember the last few years of his life. Stay away from any traumatic memories for now though. He has subconsciously blocked his memory because whatever happened to him yesterday was too painful for him to deal with; it's best to leave those parts out for now."

They thanked the doctor, and he left them standing there, completely shell-shocked. After a few minutes of thought, Danny finally put his brain into gear. "Becker, can you go in and sit with him for a bit? He won't talk to me."

Becker nodded in reply and disappeared into Connor's room.

"What about Abby?" Sarah asked.

"I'm going to go see her now. She should be round from the anesthetic by now."

"I'll come with you."

He headed for the lifts, Sarah following close behind.

Danny couldn't quite believe how many lives they'd lost yesterday: five of Becker's men and several scientists. They'd had a call from their off-site research lab - their supposed 'secret' off-site research lab. They could never have known what they were getting themselves into when they took that call.

As Danny stepped into the lift with Sarah, he looked over to her and gave her a smile of reassurance. She looked exhausted and worried and Danny found himself taking her hand in his and giving it a reassuring squeeze as the elevator began it's journey to the intensive-care ward.

Danny knew that he should have been to see Abby before now, but Sarah had been with her and he figured Connor needed them more at the moment - him being awake. The lift pinged open to the ward, and Danny and Sarah walked over to the door, pressing the buzzer to be let in. Once inside, Danny made his way slowly to Abby's side-room; he was almost afraid of what he would find when he got there. Sarah had pre-warned him that she was covered in wires and was still on oxygen, but it was still a shock when he walked into the room and saw her laying there. She looked so small and helpless; her usually styled hair was mussed and frizzy, and her face was pale, all traces of make-up removed.

"Oh Abby!" he said softly, taking her hand in his and squeezing softly.

Abby stirred and opened her eyes, squinting at the brightness of the room.

"Danny?" she croaked.

"Yeah?"

"What happened? Where am I?"

He sat down in the chair beside the bed and Sarah sat next to him.

"You were shot in the shoulder, Abby. You've had an operation to repair the damage. Can you remember anything?" He looked to where a drip hung from a hook attached to her bed, the tube of crimson liquid disappearing into her arm. She'd needed a blood transfusion and Danny felt his heart ache for her. She'd been incredibly lucky to survive.

Abby ran the fingers of her good arm through her hair and licked her dry, cracked lips.

"I remember getting a call to say we had intruders at our research facility, then I . . . oh! That's it, that's all I can remember."

She pushed herself up a little and glanced around the room as though searching for something. Her eyes settled on Sarah and she gave a weak smile before dropping back onto the bed.

"It's good to see you awake, Abby," Sarah said.

"Where's Connor?"

Danny felt his heart speed up and he looked at Sarah; she was looking right back at him with worry etched into her features. How could he tell her that Connor had no memory of who they were? More importantly, no memory of who Abby was; Danny knew that it was going to break her heart.

"He's here. He was . . . injured too."

Abby's face dropped and, although he wouldn't have thought it possible, she paled even more than she had already.

"Injured? How? Is he . . . is he ok?"

"He's got a minor bullet wound to his arm, a nasty cut on his hand and of course there's the smoke inhalation but . . ."

He took a deep breath, stalling for time. He wasn't really sure if Abby was in any fit state to hear this now. Maybe he should wait until she'd got a bit of her strength back. Then again, if Danny knew Abby she wouldn't rest until she knew how Connor was. He looked to Sarah for support and she nodded.

"But?" Abby asked impatiently.

"Connor's erm . . . Well, he's suffering from amnesia."

"Amnesia?" Abby drew the word out, as though she were hearing it for the first time. "How much? I mean, does he know who he is?"

"Yeah, yeah he knows who he is. He just doesn't know who we are - any of us."

Abby closed her eyes for a moment and took a shuddering breath; Danny could tell that she was holding back tears.

"How do you know that he doesn't . . . I mean, he hasn't known the two of you for as long - or Becker. Maybe he . . . He . . . " She trailed off, sounding utterly devastated.

"Abby, sweetheart, Connor doesn't remember the ARC project at all. As far as he's concerned we're government officials and this is all some massive conspiracy."

She gave a sad smile and nodded, which Danny thought a little odd. It was beyond him why she would be smiling after hearing that her best friend didn't have a clue who she was.

"That's Connor," she said softly. "He probably thinks he's been abducted by aliens or something. That's just how he was when I . . . first met him."

Abby sniffed and wiped away tears. She seemed angry with herself for getting upset and Danny stood up and sat on the edge of her bed.

"Hey! Come 'ere," he said, pulling her into his arms gently.

She made no sound, but Danny could tell she was sobbing, her whole body shaking as he whispered words of comfort. Even now as her world crumbled, she was trying to be strong. That was Abby - strong, stubborn, beautiful Abby. She was like family to him; they all were. They'd been through so much together in such a short time that it'd bonded them. She was like a sister to him, and he hated to see her heartbroken.

"Can I go and see him?" she asked, her voice muffled against his chest.

"Soon. You need to get your strength back first."

Abby pulled back and looked up at him, her eyes red and puffy from her tears.

"I'm strong enough. I need to see him, Danny, please!"

"The doctor says you're not fit enough to move around yet. You've lost a lot of blood and your body needs time to recover."

"I'm fine!" she replied, pushing Danny away and getting that stubborn look on her face. She was getting ready for a fight; it was plain for anyone to see.

"Abby, Danny's right," Sarah said. "You need your rest. You'll be no good to Connor if you make yourself ill."

Abby sighed deeply and sank back down onto the bed in defeat. She looked exhausted and miserable, though Danny was sure she would argue otherwise if he suggested it.

"Tell ya what, I'll borrow a wheelchair and take you down to see him as soon as the doctor says it's ok, yeah?" he said.

A ghost of a smile appeared on her face and she nodded, seeming to cheer up a little.

"Come on then," Sarah said, standing up. "Let's get out of here and give Abby some peace so she can rest. Is there anything you want me to bring in tomorrow?"

"Some pyjamas would be good; I can't imagine it'll look good if I go to visit Connor in this hospital gown with my bum hanging out."

Sarah laughed and Abby smiled then - really smiled - and the whole room seemed to light up. Danny loved Abby's smiles; they could brighten his day. A couple of those and Connor was sure to start remembering. At least, he hoped so.


	3. Chapter 3

Title: Darkness - Chapter 3

Characters/Pairings: Connor/Abby-ish, Becker, Danny, Lester, Sarah

Disclaimer: Primeval and it's characters belong to Impossible Pictures, no copyright infringement is intended.

A/N: Massive thanks go out to Alyse, who puts up with me sending her unfinished fic constantly :) Thank you! And thanks for reading and reviewing guys, I love getting feedback. :)

* * *

After being told the news that Connor was suffering from amnesia, Abby had felt her whole world crumble around her. He'd only been back at the flat for a month after their return from the Cretaceous; what would happen now? Would he go back home with her? Would he _**ever**_ remember who she was? So many questions flew through Abby's mind that she felt overwhelmed; she hadn't cried so much in years.

She was desperate to see Connor; she couldn't stop thinking about him, wondering if maybe little parts of his memory might be returning and she wouldn't be there to see it. She was relieved when they finally removed the drip from her arm which was providing her with blood, and her breathing improved so that she could be taken off the oxygen. She was being moved from intensive care today to a medical ward - a medical ward which was on the same floor as Connor's. She was both excited and nervous at the prospect.

She'd received regular visits from Danny, Becker and Sarah; even Lester had ventured to her bedside on one occasion, bringing her a bag of grapes. She hadn't the heart to tell him she didn't like them. They'd all given her regular updates on Connor. The news was becoming increasingly worrying - Connor had stopped speaking, hadn't uttered a word to anyone in two days - and Abby was afraid of what she might find when she finally got to see him. Sarah said that the nurses had told them he was having terrible nightmares too. Abby could relate to that - she'd had a few bad dreams of her own since their experience at the warehouse.

In her dreams, Abby was always frozen - unable to move or speak as Connor was wrenched away from her. Then she would see him lying on the floor unconscious and there was nothing she could do to help him, just watch as he vanished in front of her eyes. She wondered if maybe it was her memories from that day - all jumbled up and confused. Although she'd tried and tried to think back, Abby was unable to remember anything after receiving the call from the research facility. If not remembering being shot scared her, how on earth did poor Connor feel? Abby surmised that he must be terrified.

* * *

It wasn't long before Abby settled into her new room. She was a little more comfortable here; nurses and doctors didn't come in and disturb her as often as they had done upstairs. But as visiting time drew nearer, Abby felt herself becoming more and more anxious. She couldn't quite explain it; she'd spent the last three days longing to see Connor and now that she was going to, the thought of it made her feel sick. She tried to busy herself by reading magazines and doing the exercises with her bad arm that her physiotherapist had shown her, but she still felt that niggle of worry in the back of her mind.

Two hours later, Danny's head appeared in the doorway, and he grinned sheepishly before making his way into the room with a wheelchair.

"How ya doin'?" he asked.

"Fine, better thanks."

She took a deep breath, pushed the covers off and swung her legs off the bed.

"You sure you're ready for this? I can come back tomorrow."

"No," she said, shaking her head firmly. "I need to see him, even if he has no idea who I am."

Danny nodded and put the brakes on the wheelchair before moving round to Abby's side and helping her up with her good arm. Once she was seated comfortably, he placed one of the blankets from her bed over her knees and then they were off.

Abby's anxiety grew the closer they got to Connor's room; she held on to the arm of the chair tightly to stop her hand from shaking. They stopped at a closed door - room twenty-three - and Danny opened it slowly. Connor lay there facing them; he looked them up and down for a moment, seeming to focus on Abby. His face was sunken and he had huge dark circles under his eyes; Abby had never seen him look so bad - exhausted and totally drained of colour - not even during their time stuck in the past. He closed his eyes tight and turned away, and Abby had to take deep breaths to calm herself and prevent a sob escaping her lips.

She felt Danny's hand rest on her good shoulder, and he squeezed it gently. She looked back at him and smiled, hoping the moisture in her eyes wasn't enough to betray her emotions.

"You sure you're ok?" he asked her.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Can you just . . . give us a minute?"

He looked at her for a moment, as if considering whether he should leave her or not, and then nodded. He bent down and kissed the top of her head softly, before turning and heading out of the room, the door closing with a soft click.

Abby stood up from the wheelchair - somewhat shakily - and walked over to the bed, sitting herself down in the much more comfortable armchair by Connor's side. She wasn't sure what to say or do; maybe she should just sit here in silence for a while, give him a chance to get used to her presence. When after five minutes, he still hadn't said anything or even turned back to see if she was still there, she decided to speak.

"Hi, Connor," she said softly. "I know you don't remember me, but I'm your friend - Abby."

He shifted in the bed, and for a moment Abby thought that he was going to turn around, but he didn't and so she continued.

"You really don't remember anything? Not Rex, or Sid and Nancy? Not even . . . Cutter?" She took a deep breath and wiped away a stray tear before continuing. "Rex is a Coelurosauravus, and Sid and Nancy are Diictodons - they're our pets."

She thought she heard him make a sound, the kind of huffing sound she'd often heard Connor make when he didn't believe something to be true. Abby found herself smiling just a little, despite the situation.

"I know it sounds ridiculous, but it's true, it's all true. Just look at me, Connor, please! You don't have to talk to me but at least look at me," she begged.

When he still didn't turn to look at her, she almost gave in and left, but somewhere deep inside her she knew that she had to keep going - keep talking - or he could be lost to them forever. She told him about how they'd met, how they'd ended up sharing a flat. She talked to him about the others, how they'd joined the team when they'd lost Stephen, and then Cutter. Abby talked to him until she had exhausted herself and when Danny came back into the room, she let him help her back into the wheelchair and take her to her bed. As she fell asleep that night, Abby realised that there would be no quick fixes for Connor's condition. Things would probably get worse before they got better but she had to keep trying, for her own sake as much as for Connor's.

* * *

Two days later, Abby was discharged from hospital. Being home on her own in the flat was difficult, not just because she missed Connor, but because doing things with one hand was extremely difficult. She wouldn't let it beat her though and found her way round most things. They moved Connor to a psychiatric ward and she visited him every night - twice at weekends. Abby knew that the others were going too, but she also knew that her bond with Connor had been much stronger than theirs and so it was important that she saw him as often as possible.

It had been two weeks since the explosion and Connor was remembering things in his dreams at least, even if he didn't when he was awake. As she sat by his bedside, he would call out in his sleep - mostly her name, sometimes Cutter's. She often wondered if maybe he had actually started to remember, but there was no way to tell unless he spoke to them. Then one day while she was sitting with him, she finally got her wish. The words that spilled from his mouth however, were not at all what she'd wanted to hear. Abby was telling him about one of their missions - she often did - when he turned suddenly and looked her right in the eye.

"Leave me alone!" he said, his voice sounding hoarse from lack of use.

She stared back at him in shock; it was a reaction at least, even if it wasn't a good one.

"Connor I . . ."

"No! Every day you come in here with your little 'stories' and I cant stand it anymore!" he snarled.

Abby felt her lip begin to quiver and she fought desperately to hold back her tears. This wasn't the Connor she knew; he would never speak to her like that - or anyone else for that matter. Connor was sweet, and a little shy; he never had a bad word to say to anyone. He continued to glare at her for a moment, but then his face softened a little.

"Look, I just can't handle you being here, ok? It makes my chest ache and my throat hurt and I have no idea why. I just want you to go . . . please."

She nodded and sniffed, feeling her heart shatter into a million pieces.

"O. . .ok," she stammered, standing from the chair. "If that's what you want, I'll go . . . I . . . I'll go."

Abby turned and fled from the room, heading for the lifts as fast as her legs would carry her. She pressed the button several times in her haste to get away. When the lift finally arrived, she was relieved to find it empty and stepped inside, pressing the button for the ground floor. Once the doors pinged closed, Abby sank to her knees and cried. It felt like the world had ended, like she'd lost her best friend for good. He'd been such a stable presence in her life for the last four years; what would she do without him?

It took her about a minute to realise that she was acting completely irrationally and needed to get a grip. This was _**Connor**_ - her best friend - and probably the most important person in her life right now. She couldn't just give up on him and walk away because things were getting a little too tough. He would never give up on her; she knew this from past experience. Abby pulled herself together and decided as the lifts opened and she walked out into the hospital reception, that she would give Connor his space - for now. But she would be back again tomorrow night whether he liked it or not. Everyone had been tiptoeing around him for the last two weeks, but Connor Temple needed to face what happened to him.

* * *

The next day, Abby had had more time to think. She went to talk to Connor's doctor - taking Danny for moral support. There was nothing physically wrong with Connor; he needed to come home. Maybe a little familiarity would help to speed along his recovery. After getting the go-ahead from the medical staff, there was just Connor left to convince and Abby didn't think that was going to be easy. She took a deep breath before entering his room as though preparing to do battle - maybe that was what it would turn into.

"Connor?" she said as she made her way over to his bed. "Conn, I know I'm probably the last person you want to see right now, but I've come to ask you something."

He turned to look at her, a pained expression crossing his features before he opened his mouth to speak. "Look, I erm, I'm sorry about yesterday. I got a bit carried away I think. I didn't mean to upset you."

Abby breathed a sigh of relief and swallowed down a lump in her throat. There was still the not-so-small matter of convincing him to come home however. A home that he wouldn't recognise; full of animals which had been extinct for millions of years. How would he react to that? "That's ok, I understand."

"I was worried that you wouldn't come back."

She gave a sad smile; if he could remember who she was, he'd know that she would never give up on him - never. "Of course I came back, Connor. You're my friend."

"Yeah, I suppose you must be."

Abby moved forward and took his hand, giving it a squeeze. He looked at her in surprise and then cried out, closing his eyes.

"What is it, Connor? What's wrong?"

"It hurts."

"What does?" Abby was torn between staying by his side as his hand grasped at hers and going to get help.

Connor opened his eyes and took several deep breaths before looking at her. There was that pained expression again; it broke her heart.

"When I see . . . it hurts. I can't, it's too hard."

"What is, Conn? What hurts? What's too hard?"

"You! I see you, and you're hurt. There's so much blood and I can't help you; you're going to die."

"It's ok," she soothed, using her free hand to stroke his hair. "I didn't die, Conn. I'm here, it's ok."

"I don't understand why I feel like this. I don't know why it is that when I see you, I can't seem to focus on anything. It scares me."

Abby knew why it was that Connor felt that way. She thought she knew - deep down. But she couldn't stand there and tell Connor that he had feelings for her, that he'd once told her he loved her, could she? He should already know these things, be able to remember for himself. It wasn't fair that she had to remind him of things that were supposed to be so private. She perched herself on his bed, pulling from his grasp and looking down at her hands.

"Connor, I came today to ask you something. I want you to come home with me - back to our flat. I know that it might be difficult for a while and I know that you might not want to. But I think that you need to surround yourself with all your things. Maybe it'll jog your memory or something."

She could almost see the moment that his barriers went back up. He seemed to withdraw into himself and shook his head.

"I don't think I can. I don't think I'm ready." He sounded terrified and Abby felt her heart break all over again.

"Listen," she began, reaching for his hand. He pulled away, but she didn't give in, reaching across him further to grab it and hold on with both hands. "The longer you stay here, the harder it will be - the longer it'll take to remember."

He asked the question that Abby feared the most. "What if I never remember?"

She shook her head, unwilling to believe that he'd never retrieve his memories; it was just unacceptable. "You're already sort of remembering the day of the explosion," she offered. "That's a start, right?"

"So that's what happened then? Your shoulder, you were shot?"

"Yes! Yes, Connor. Someone shot me and I lost a lot of blood."

"And afterwards, how did we get out? Why couldn't I help you? Why in my dreams do I just leave you to die?"

Abby watched as a tear rolled down his cheek. She desperately wanted to make things better for him - to know all the answers that would make him better. But she knew better than most that there were no easy ways out of these kinds of situations. Sometimes you just had to ride out the bad and hope to God that some good would come along eventually. "I don't know why you couldn't help me, Connor - I was unconscious at the time. I do know that you were injured and that Becker got us both out."

"Becker? He's the soldier guy yeah?"

"Yeah." She sniffed, realising that she too was crying.

"And the tall gangly older bloke - that's Danny?"

"Yeah. And Sarah . . . "

"The other woman with the dark hair. I feel like I'm just getting to know all these people, but you tell me that I've known them for years. It's all so . . . overwhelming."

"You've known Sarah, Danny and Becker for just over a year. You've known me - and Lester - for about four years now. I know it's a lot to deal with, Conn, but you'll be ok, I know you will. You have to be."

An awkward silence stretched out between them; filled only with Abby's intermittent sniffs as she tried to calm herself. She was beginning to think it was a lost cause. Maybe Connor was right; maybe it was too soon. The thing was, despite trying not to, Abby had grown used to the idea that she would be taking Connor home. She'd found herself imagining what it would be like to finally have him back in the flat - to return to some kind of normalcy - whatever that was.

"Ok," Connor said eventually. "Ok, I'll come back with you but I want you to promise something. If it doesn't work out - if I can't remember and I don't like it - you have to let me go back to my Mum's."

Abby thought for a moment and then nodded. "Yeah, ok, but you have to promise _**me**_ that you'll really try and that you won't give in too easily."

"It's a deal," he replied.

A broad grin covered his face and Abby couldn't hide the sob that escaped her body. A glimpse of that beautiful smile - even for a second - was enough to make her day. It felt like a lifetime had passed since she'd seen him smile.

"Well, the doctor says that you can go home as soon as you're ready. I can bring you some fresh clothes in when I come by tomorrow if you like."

Abby frowned when he shook his head in response.

"I'd rather just go now and get it over with to be honest. I can get a shower and change my clothes there yeah?"

"Umm, yeah, yeah I suppose." She was shocked by his wanting to go home. Abby had thought this was going to be far more difficult.

He moved a little closer to her and his voice lowered to a whisper. "It gets a little scary here at night," he explained. "People shout - sometimes scream - you have to worry what it is they're doing to them don't you?" He smiled, but it was obvious that he was deadly serious.

Abby chuckled and shook her head at him. It was so nice to glimpse the old Connor, to know that he was still in there despite his memory loss. There were so many questions she wanted to ask him, such as what was the last thing he could remember? All this talk of his mum had the others worried that maybe he'd regressed to his teens. Abby had disagreed though; she knew Connor well. Well enough to know that he had always been a mummy's boy. She could ask him though and know for sure once they were home. Home - it sounded good right about now - home with Connor. She pushed thoughts of how difficult it might be to the back of her mind as she moved away and got out his black hold-all to begin packing his things. Yes, once they were home things would be better. They had to be.


	4. Chapter 4

Title: Darkness - Chapter 4

Characters/Pairing: Connor/Abby - ish, Danny

Genres: Angst, hurt/comfort

Disclaimer: Primeval and its characters belong to Impossible Picture. No copyright infringement is intended.

A/N: Here is the next chapter - finally! This is quite a short one with an extra helping of angst and there will be one more after this. The good news is that the next chapter is finished and ready so its just a case of me posting it. Thanks so much to Alyse for the beta.

* * *

The journey home was uncomfortably silent. Abby had tried to make small talk at first, but soon gave up when all Connor would give were monosyllabic replies. He'd always been a quiet traveller - that much he could definitely remember. He cleared his throat as he noticed Abby glance across at him and smile for what felt like the tenth time in so many minutes.

"Shouldn't you be watching the road or something?" he asked.

She turned away and Connor thought he could see moisture build up in her eyes.

"You know, there was a time when you would've . . . never mind."

He was going to ask what she was going to say, but then thought better of it and turned to look out of the window at the passing scenery. Now and again they would pass a building that he thought might be familiar somehow, but then he would brush it off as wishful thinking. He let his mind wander; there were so many things that Connor didn't understand. People kept telling him that they were his friends - lots of people - But Connor wasn't a people person; he didn't have friends. Not many anyway. There were just the two - his best friends - Tom and Duncan. The three of them were always together. They shared a lot of the same classes at Uni and a lot of the same interests. Friday night was movie night and they'd rent some sci-fi films and order pizza. That was the life of Connor Temple. Not dinosaur hunting and travelling through rips in time. What Abby had been telling him sounded more ridiculous than some of the movies he'd seen.

"Right, we're here," Abby said, startling him from his reverie.

She unbuckled her seatbelt and he followed suit, both exiting the car. He had a good look around the quiet little street; it was amazing really that they were only fifteen minutes from the centre of London. A huge block of rather swanky looking flats stretched out along the whole length of the road. They looked to have been converted from an old warehouse. Connor found himself wondering how on earth he'd managed to get such an amazing place to live. The last he remembered, he was living in the dingy halls of residence at the University. He guessed that they must be paying them danger money if they really did what Abby said they did. Abby grabbed his things from the boot of her mini and made her way over to one of the doors on the ground floor. Connor followed on behind her, taking his bag as she rooted around for her keys.

"Well, here we are then, home," Abby said.

Connor stepped inside and looked the place over. "Home," he repeated, as though trying the word out for the first time.

"I must warn you, there'll be two little . . . oops, too late."

The sound of scrabbling feet could be heard and too very strange looking creatures rounded the corner, their claws slipping on the wooden floor. They practically leapt at Connor and he wasn't sure whether to be amazed by the fact that supposed extinct animals were actually here, in their home, or whether to be freaked out by the fact that they were currently slobbering all over him.

"Diictodons? We really have Diictodons as pets? I thought you were kidding."

"It's not exactly the kind of thing people kid about is it, Connor?"

"Probably not, no. What do they want?" he asked, backing away from them as they tugged at his trousers.

"They just want you to fuss them for a bit that's all. They've missed you."

Abby flashed him a beautiful smile that Connor couldn't help but return. She was a beautiful woman and heaven knew why she was friends with him. Girls wouldn't even talk to him usually unless it was to tell him to bugger off; now suddenly, he had two friends that were, in his opinion, smart, fine looking women. There was something about Abby though that made his heart flutter in his chest. The feeling had freaked him out at first; especially coupled with all the dreams he'd been having about this supposed stranger. Now though, he just desperately wanted to remember who she was to him and why she seemed to feel special. Connor looked back down to the Diictodons who were now squabbling for his affections. He reached down tentatively and gave them a little stroke on the head. They had nasty looking teeth and he was afraid of getting on the wrong side of them but they seemed friendly enough.

"Do they bite?" he asked.

"Not people, just furniture - amongst other things."

Abby disappeared into the kitchen and the Diictodons seemed to hear something Connor didn't. They left him alone and ran off after Abby. He was startled by a chirruping noise and looked up to see a green lizard swooping down from the rafters.

"You must be Rex," Connor said to the creature as it landed on a nearby chair.

The little lizard tilted its head from side to side and chirped at Connor before taking off again and flying into the kitchen.

"Dinner time guys," Connor heard Abby say from the other room, followed by the excited squeaks and squeals of their enthusiastic pets.

As he waited for Abby to return, Connor walked around the flat. He came to a cabinet littered with photos in frames. There was one of Abby holding the flying lizard and one of him playing a game of tug-of-war with the Diictodons. This must truly be his home. There was also a group photo; him and Abby standing with two other men. He hadn't seen the men around while he'd been in the hospital and wondered if it was the two who Abby said had died. The rest of the photos were all of him and Abby in various different places. Connor found something odd about the pictures; if he hadn't known better, he'd have said they were a married couple, or just a couple at least. Nothing Abby had said however, suggested that to be the case. All she said was that they were friends; was she hiding something from him? Connor was brought from his thoughts when he heard footsteps behind him and he turned to see Abby smiling brightly at him.

"They won't bother you for a bit now," she said, indicating to the animals in the other room. "Looking at the pictures are you? Anything ring any bells?"

He shook his head and turned back to the photos, focussing on one in particular. He had a black suit on and Abby was wearing a beautiful silky black dress that clung to her curves. They were standing arm in arm and both sporting cheesy grins.

"What was this one?" he asked, holding it out to her.

Abby reached out and took it from him, smiling sadly as she inspected the picture. "Ah, that was one of Lester's snobbish benefits. He needed to take someone who could spout out all the technical jargon about what we do at the ARC, so he chose us. I think that's actually one of the few times you've looked smart"

"We went . . . together?"

"Yes, Connor, of course we went together. There wouldn't have been much point in us going separately would there?"

"No, I mean, did we go _**together?**_"

"Connor, I don't know what you're . . . oh! You mean _**together**_. Right, erm, no, we weren't together in _**that **_way."

Connor felt the disappointment creep in. He was also rather confused though. There were so many signs; body language for one. In every picture where they were together, they were really close. Maybe he was just imagining it because he'd never been that close to a woman before. But even in the hospital, she'd visited him every day and talked to him about anything and everything. She'd even held his hand sometimes which was a kind of intimacy he really wasn't used to.

"Oh, right, of course not, silly me. I was just checking, you know, just in case." He knew he was babbling, but he was trying desperately to cover his embarrassment. If the amused expression on Abby's face was anything to go by though, he was failing miserably.

"Would you like a cup of tea?" she asked after a few minutes of silence.

"Yeah, please."

Abby made her way back to the kitchen and Connor made his way to the sofa, plonking himself down and removing his jacket. He felt strange - out of place. There was a certain familiarity about the place but it certainly didn't feel like home. There was also that tiny little niggle in the back of his mind that told him this wasn't real. That these people were lying. They were actors, maybe, who had been paid by the government to fool him into thinking he was someone else. He shook his head. No, couldn't be. Nobody would go to so much trouble just for him.

"Do you want a biscuit?" Abby called from the kitchen.

"Please," he replied.

She came out a few seconds later with a mug and a plate of biscuits, handing him his drink before going back for her own. Something hanging over the back of the sofa caught Connor's eye and he reached for it, pulling it onto his lap as Abby returned to the living room.

"Hey, it's my favourite scarf," he said.

"Yeah, I suppose it must be. You wear it all the time."

"It is; I love this scarf, I always did."

"Connor, I bought you that for Christmas," Abby said. Her eyes went wide and she set her tea down on the table, turning to face him. "Do you remember getting it?"

He scrunched up his nose and shook his head, feeling frustration beginning to seep in again. "No I don't. I just remember really liking it."

He saw Abby's face fall in disappointment. It was obviously really important to her. "You'd said you needed a new scarf and gloves so I bought you some. Bought you a new game for your, X-Box, too which cost me a small fortune but for some reason, the scarf and gloves made you so happy that you actually hugged me. Should have just stuck with them and saved myself forty quid."

"My mum always buys me a scarf and gloves for Christmas, too," he said, grinning.

"Does she ever buy you computer games?"

He shook his head, still smiling. Abby was so easy to talk to. She didn't make him feel nervous or inadequate like most women did. It felt good to have a real friend of the opposite sex; he just wished he could remember more about their relationship.

* * *

After sitting on the sofa with Abby while they drank their tea, Connor was shown to his bedroom. As he looked around his personal space, it became obvious that he had lived here for some time. All his most prized possessions were scattered around the room - amongst the dirty boxers which littered the floor. There was no way anyone could have faked that; this was most definitely home. Abby left him alone and he grabbed a change of clothes before heading down to the bathroom for a shower.

When he came out of the bathroom wrapped in a red dressing gown he'd found hanging up on the back of the door, Abby was on the phone. She put it down quickly as he walked towards her and he could tell that the smile on her face was forced. She seemed to have paled somewhat and Connor even thought she was shaking slightly.

"Abby?" he asked. "Is everything ok?"

She sat down on the sofa and ran her hand through her hair. "Yeah, yeah," she replied unconvincingly.

"Something's wrong." He wasn't falling for it; he could tell something wasn't right.

"Maybe you should sit down, Connor," she said softly.

Connor couldn't help but feel a little worried. Abby was definitely upset about something, and she'd just been on the phone. Maybe it was something about him. Maybe his doctors had called with bad news.

"What is it?" he asked, still standing a few feet away.

Abby patted the seat beside her and he made his way over slowly. This was really serious; he could tell. It reminded him of the time his dad had told him his dog was sick and had to go to the vets to be put to sleep. It was what he had done; beckoned a young Connor over to sit down, wearing a serious expression on his face. He had that same sick feeling in the pit of his stomach now as he had then. Once he was sitting down next to her, Abby turned towards him and began to speak.

"I just got off the phone with Danny. I know that you usually check in with your Mum every week - give her a call to see how she is and give her any news - so I asked the guys to get in touch and tell her you were ok. We didn't want her to worry see." She paused and Connor felt his stomach begin to churn, his chest tightening with every breath. "Connor, the number was disconnected," she added.

"So she moved house?" Even as he said the words, he knew in his heart that they weren't true. Images began to flash through his mind; broken images of black suits and people crying.

Abby shook her head. "No, they made a few more calls. Oh God, Connor, I don't know how to say this. Your mum, she died - four months ago."

"W…w…w…what?" His voice didn't sound like it should. He sounded small and pathetic and childlike. "She can't be!"

"She is Connor, I'm so sorry."

He stood up and began to pace, scrubbing his hands over his face. "No! You're lying! You're lying! Why would you say that? It's cruel, Abby! You're cruel! I can't . . . I can't . . . you're lying!" Tears streamed down his cheeks, his whole body visibly shaking. He felt sick; he couldn't breathe and he had to get away.

"I'm not lying, Connor," she said softly. "I wouldn't lie to you, especially about that." She walked over to him and placed a hand on his shoulder but he shrugged her off, pushing her away. Abby stumbled backwards awkwardly as Connor stormed past and ran up to his room. Once there he fell back onto the bed, pulled the quilt over his head and sobbed. His heart ached; his whole world had fallen apart, torn in two - again.


	5. Chapter 5

Title: Darkness - Chapter 4

Genres: Angst, hurt/comfort

Summary: The team get injured during a mission gone wrong but for Connor, there are lasting side-effects.

Disclaimer: Primeval and its characters belong to Impossible Picture. No copyright infringement is intended.

A/N: Here is the final chapter. Hope you all enjoy it and thanks for all the reviews, I really appreciated the feedback. Thanks so much to Alyse for the beta.

* * *

Once Connor had gone to his room, Abby sat back down on the sofa and cried. How could he not have told her something so important? They told each other everything, or so she thought. He'd obviously taken time off and gone to the funeral - alone. Abby could've gone with him and offered her support. She hated the thought that she hadn't been there for him when he'd needed her. It hurt that he hadn't felt like he could share his pain, but she could be there for him now. Now he needed her more than ever. Because of his amnesia, to him it would be like he'd just lost his mum. Abby knew better than most what that felt like; she'd lost her own mum when she was young. She stood from the sofa and rushed up the stairs to Connor's room, knocking at first but when she got no answer, she pushed the door open slowly and walked in.

"Conn?" she said softly, walking over to the bed.

"Go away!"

She sat down on the edge of the bed and reached out, touching what she hoped was his shoulder. "Connor, let me be there for you. Just . . . let me . . . " She felt tears began to fall down her cheeks but she didn't try to wipe them away. Connor's pain was breaking her heart and she wasn't sure what she could do for him.

"Leave me alone, Abby."

One thing Abby knew for certain was that she wasn't going anywhere. She wasn't about to leave Connor to cope with this on his own again. They'd get through it together this time. She lifted the covers slightly to reveal the back of his head; hair all tousled from being under the duvet.

"Connor, I know that nothing I can say or do will make you feel any better and that nobody knows how this makes you feel but you, but just let me be here with you. You don't have to say anything, _**I **_don't have to say anything; I'll just be here."

He didn't reply but Abby thought she saw him nod his head and that was good enough for her. She pulled the covers back a little more and slipped in behind him, running her hand up and down his arm in what she hoped was a comforting gesture. Connor's body began to shake and he took deep shuddering breaths. She could tell that he was trying desperately not to make a sound but a half-sob escaped his lips and Abby felt her own tears begin to fall once more.

"It's ok to cry, Conn," she whispered. It felt as though if she spoke too loud then he might break.

Connor turned towards her suddenly, startling her, and threw his arms around her. He pulled her flush against him, burying his head into her neck and she felt the moisture of his tears as he sobbed. "I'm sorry," he said through his tears.

"Shh, don't be sorry." She stroked his hair and kissed his head. "Don't be sorry, Conn. It's ok, it's ok." Abby wasn't sure how long she lay there like that with her arms around him as he cried, but eventually he quieted and his breathing evened out indicating that he'd fallen asleep. She rolled onto her back carefully, taking Connor with her so that his head was resting on her chest and soon felt the pull of sleep herself.

Some time later, Abby awoke feeling disorientated. It took her a few moments to remember where she was and a few more to realise that she was alone. She sat up in bed and immediately her hand came into contact with Connor's back. He was sitting forward on the bed, his head in his hands. Abby ran a comforting hand up his back and to his shoulder, giving it a squeeze. Before she could pull it away, Connor grabbed her hand and squeezed back before moving to kiss it softly. The act both shocked and puzzled her. Since the accident he had been distant and hesitant. More like the old Connor - the Connor he had been when they'd first met. This was more personal. More intimate.

"Connor?" she said. He let go of her hand and she let it rest on his shoulder, feeling the rise and fall of his chest as he sighed.

"It was raining on the day of my mum's funeral," he said. His voice sounded cracked and raw. "It seemed to rain harder when we got to the graveyard. Felt like someone was rubbing it in, stamping on my pain."

"Connor . . ." There was so much she wanted to say. Beginning with the fact that he was obviously remembering something which happened so recently and ending with the question of why he hadn't thought to tell her about his mother. Connor began to speak again though and he needed to get this out. Abby didn't want to cause any more damage than had already been done.

"There weren't many there. Couple of mum's friends, my two aunties and their husbands - Me. I thought there'd be more there. I thought that mum . . . I didn't realise she'd gotten so old. When did she get so old, Abby? How could she die? Why wasn't I there for her? I should have been there! I should've . . ." His fists hit the bed in frustration and he growled.

"It's not your fault. People die, Connor. It's sad but it's true. Even if you were there, there was nothing you could've done. Danny said she had a massive heart attack; she was gone by the time the ambulance got to her."

She heard a strangled sob escape his lips and winced. The truth hurt but he needed to hear it. Abby didn't believe in pulling any punches. It was always best to rip the plaster off as quickly as possible no matter how much pain it caused. She'd always wished she was told the truth about her mother's death. She'd spent years believing that the angels came down and just took her away. Her father obviously hadn't realised at the time that this would terrify a young Abby far more than Cancer ever could. She'd spent a childhood in fear of unseen creatures snatching her or her family away.

"I can't do this any more, Abby," he sobbed.

Abby frowned in confusion. "Do what?"

He turned to face her, his tear-filled eyes sparkling in the moonlight. "This." He gestured wildly around the room. "All of it. The ARC, me, here with you."

She made to move from the bed. "I'll leave, Connor. I'll go back to my own bed. I just came up to . . . "

"No, that's not what I meant. I mean I can't live here anymore."

Abby was dumbfounded. She felt her heart begin to hammer in her chest and bile rise up her throat. He was saying he wanted to move out? "Connor, why?" It came out as a desperate plea. She couldn't lose him, not now. "You're remembering. You must remember who I am, what I mean to you."

"That's why I have to go. That day in the warehouse; I thought I'd lost you, too, Abby, and I couldn't handle it. First Cutter was killed, then I got the call about my mother. When I saw you fall, saw the blood spread out across your clothes, across the floor, I thought you were gone too. Everyone. Everyone I ever loved and cared about gone in a matter of months, Abby. Do you know how that feels?"

She shook her head. She didn't. Not many did.

"I need to just go. Move away and never come back."

"No," Abby replied simply.

He frowned. "No?"

"No, you're not running away from your problems and I won't let you."

Connor laughed mirthlessly. "You don't really get a say in it, Abby."

"Yes, I do."

He huffed and she could see that he was getting annoyed. Anger, that was what he needed. He needed to get angry and frustrated. Anything to get him away from his self-pity.

"No, you don't."

"I won't let you, Conn. I'll just follow you."

"You won't be able to because you won't know where I am."

"Do you have any idea how ridiculous you sound?" She was conscious that her voice was raised slightly, but she kept going. "The ARC is your life."

"_**YOU'RE **_MY LIFE!" he shouted, grabbing her shoulders and shaking her.

"Then why are you leaving me?" she said softly, her voice wavering and her eyes stinging with tears.

"Oh God, Abby, I'm so sorry." He crushed her against him, running his hands up and down her back. "I'm so, so sorry."

"I missed you," she wept. "I thought I'd never get you back. Why didn't you tell me about your mum?"

"I thought I was coping, thought I'd be ok."

Abby pulled away so she could see his face. "Even if you were, you still should have told me. I could've been there for you - gone to the funeral with you and offered my support."

"You had enough to deal with, what with Cutter's death and that."

"So did you."

"Yeah, yeah you're right, Abbs, I should've told you. I'm sorry."

She offered him a weak smile. "You seem to be saying that a lot lately."

"Sorry."

Abby batted his arm and he smiled back. An actual Connor smile. It was good to see, no matter how briefly it lasted. "So you won't be going anywhere then? You promise?"

"Promise."

She found herself hugging him again and if Connor sniffed her hair, well she'd let it slide - just this once. "Can I stay here tonight?" she asked. She really didn't want to go down to the cold emptiness of her room. She needed to feel Connor's warm body pressed against hers. Hear his soft snores as he slept. She was afraid she would wake up in the morning and find him gone, even though he'd promise to stay.

"Course you can."

His lips ghosted across her cheek and Abby felt the flutter of butterflies in her stomach. When he moved away she took his head in her hands and returned the gesture, kissing his forehead softly. There was a part of her that wanted so much more; that needed to feel all of him. But right now just being with him was enough. She lay down on the bed and pulled him with her, encouraging him to snuggle into the crook of her arm. She could tell he was a little unsure at first - he obviously wasn't used to her letting him in so close - But he soon got comfortable and it wasn't long before his soft rhythmic snoring filled the room.

* * *

Abby woke early the next morning and crept to the bathroom leaving Connor to sleep in. An hour and a half later, he finally emerged, looking crumpled and dishevelled and decidedly tasty. He gave a half wave before disappearing into the bathroom. Abby put the kettle on and put two pieces of bread into the toaster, her brain on automatic pilot. As she waited for the toast to pop up, she grimaced in pain as she felt a twinge in her shoulder and rubbed it carefully. She hadn't been wearing her sling and the position she'd slept in last night certainly hadn't helped. A voice directly behind her made her jump.

"Shoulder bothering you?" he asked, so close that she could feel his breath on the back of her neck.

"It's fine," she lied.

"No, it's not." He reached out and pulled her t-shirt aside, running his fingers along her injury gently.

Abby hissed as he touched a particularly sensitive spot. Her scar burned when touched and she couldn't prevent her knee-jerk reaction to pull away.

"Sorry."

"It's ok. I haven't been resting it properly and the scar still hurts. I have some cream to rub on to help it to heal but I keep forgetting."

"Where is it?"

"In my bag."

She turned and watched as he walked over to the coat stand and found her bag, rummaging through until he found the tube of cream and held it up. Abby nodded and he made his way back over. He unscrewed the cap and squeezed a small amount onto his finger. There was something strangely intimate about him caring for her injury. She winced as he made contact with her shoulder again but she struggled to keep quiet and stay still for him.

"There," he said, placing the tube of cream on the worktop.

"Thanks, Conn."

They looked at one another for a moment, their gazes locked. The toast popped up, startling them both and Abby turned away abruptly, placing it on a plate before buttering both slices generously. Connor had moved away and was pulling out a chair to sit at the table. She placed the plate down in front of him and smiled.

"There ya go."

"Thanks." He smiled up at her warmly. "Abby? Will you come with me to see the psychiatrist today please?"

"Yeah, course I will. I was going to come anyway." Of course she would be there, why would he think otherwise?

"Thank you." He stuffed a piece of toast into his mouth and began to chew noisily.

Abby screwed up her face in disgust. Some things never changed. She turned away to make tea for them both and smiled. It was then that she realised that she'd grown to appreciate those things now more than ever.

**_The end_**


End file.
